Living on a Coin Flip
by MadBat27
Summary: Harvey Dent struggles with his other persona and his desire to end it all. Had to delete and repost because the code was showing in the other one. It turns out this actually happened in the comics, but with only one coin toss.


Harvey stared into the glass, watching the water drip down the right side of his face. Like the caress of a lover, it traced a path by his sideburns, over his cheek and down to the tip of his prominent chin. It almost felt like a fingertip. Almost.

Nobody would ever touch him that way again. He wouldn't want them too. Not even Gilda. His beloved wife was gone, for good he hoped. He didn't want to be seen this way. He didn't want to see himself this way. The mirror on the wall was offset to the side. Only one half of Harvey's face showed in the reflection, perfectly split down the middle when the ugliness ended. Every now and then, a movement would bring him too far to the right and he'd see the edges of the scarring. He'd wince and lean left. Out of sight, out of mind; if only it were that easy. He tried masking the injury but people knew, and they stared at the mask as if they could see through it, repulsed by what lay beneath. Those who weren't revolted stared at his good side with pity, paying him bittersweet compliments.

No, he could never forget.

The gun glistened in the basin. Two bullets, in case he missed the first shot. Fear might jerk the gun away, shatter a tile, ricochet around the pipes and flood the room. It wasn't uncommon to fail on the first attempt. He'd heard of more than a few people surviving a bullet in the brain. Harvey didn't want to be one of them.

He eyed the bathtub, as good a place to die as any. Face-down would be the way to go, he'd decided. It would keep as much of the mess in the tub as possible. At least, he thought so; he hadn't tried it yet. The muzzle would rest under his chin, his gun-hand wedged under his chest. It wouldn't be comfortable, but that didn't really matter. Harvey flipped the coin, and his stomach folded into his chest. His heart stopped beating as the metal disc flipped and spun, flashing light like gunfire over his face. It seemed to take a lifetime to fall and when it did, it was heavy like a ton of lead.

Holding it tight, Harvey closed his eyes. A silent prayer moved his lips, and he breathed in deeply. His hand unclenched.

Bad Heads.

Harvey sighed. Excited wasn't the right word but it was close. The bath looked inviting, calling to him to sink into the tub and just roll over and die. He thought about reaching for the gun, but he knew he wouldn't get off that easy. Only halfway there.

"Everyone deserves a second chance."

The other personality, taking control. Two-Face shifted so that his scarred side filled the mirror. He wasn't ashamed of his lesser half but one good turn deserved another. He turned the coin over, admiring the warped face. One of these days, his luck was going to run out. One of these days it'd land bad heads twice in a row. That was the agreement.

"If I could let you blow out your own brains and leave my side in perfect working order, you know I would," he told himself.

Half of him wanted half of him dead, and was willing to go with it if necessary. To Two-Face, that only made twenty-five per cent. He'd argued the case well and Harvey had been forced to concede. With a well-practised action, Two-Face flipped for his life. He watched the two heads alternate as the penny somersaulted through the air, stopping just shy of the roof and falling back to the palm of his hand. A monstrous smile spread on the monstrous side of his face. Somehow, he knew even before he looked. Good heads.

"Not tonight, Harvey."

Two-Face stepped left and forward, ceding control. He liked to make Harvey do it. It was a dare. Ignore the coin, end it anyway. Just try. But Harvey knew better than that. He knew how the other half worked. He would get the gun to his head, but the trigger wouldn't make it halfway before control was wrestled from him. Then, with the coin ignored, Two-Face would take over. Completely. Harvey would be no more.

Still, the temptation lingered. Sadly, he removed the bullets. He watched them spiral around the basin of the sink, a metaphor for his life. For his sanity. Harvey flicked off the bathroom light and returned to his bed to sleep. The nightly routine was over.

Maybe tomorrow a mobster would do him a favour.


End file.
